


Fairytale Actually

by owlways_and_forever



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:16:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5305388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlways_and_forever/pseuds/owlways_and_forever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Swan centric AU based loosely on Love Actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Emma

_Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is all around. [1]_

Emma Swan stood in line at her regular Starbucks on Villiers Street, tapping her foot impatiently at the impossibly long line ahead of her. She was already running late for work, and she hated being late, but she absolutely could not function without her morning coffee. She was supposed to be meeting with some lawyer named Loxley about a case they were prosecuting, though she would much rather be working one of her other cases than dealing with some uptight lawyer bitch. Emma did not get along well with lawyers.

She was two people away from ordering, but the man at the register seemed to be taking impossibly long to make up his mind. He was cute, or at least he might have been if he could order faster than snail's pace. As he shifted his weight, Emma caught a glimpse of a young boy standing next to him, arms crossed over his chest and a look of irritation on his face.

"Dad," the young boy whined, but his father appeared to be out of patience.

"No, Henry, you cannot have coffee, now stop making such a fuss, we're holding up the line," the man said sternly before turning back to face the barista. "One small hot chocolate please, with whipped cream and cinnamon, and one large dark roast, please."

He leaned over the counter to whisper something quietly to the barista and then handed over a few bills and ushered his son away from the register without waiting for change. When it was Emma's turn to order, she asked for her winter usual – large peppermint mocha with skim milk, but when she made to swipe her card, the barista stopped her.

"The man ahead of you paid for your drink," she informed Emma, nodding to where the handsome man was accepting both his and his son's drinks.

Irritation boiled in Emma's stomach as she approached them, pulling cash from her wallet as she did so.

"I don't married men buying me drinks," she snapped, thrusting out her hand with the money.

"Henry, go put some extra cinnamon on your hot chocolate, I feel sure they didn't give you enough," the man told his son, who flounced away, before turning back to Emma. "I didn't mean to offend you, love."

"You didn't – I'm not – I just don't need married guys hitting on me," Emma stammered, somewhat thrown off by his impossibly blue eyes and admittedly very attractive voice.

"I'm not married, love," he said with a smile, and Emma had to fight to keep a clear head.

"With a girlfriend then, whatever," she snapped, once again shoving the money toward him, but he declined to answer. "And don't call me that."

"No girlfriend either, and since I don't know your name, I've nothing else to call you," he smirked.

"I, well, I –" Emma stuttered, feeling very foolish.

"You assumed that because I have a son, I must have a wife as well," he grinned, and Emma blushed. "Tut, tut, love, you know what they say when you assume…"

"Look, it doesn't matter, the point is that I don't need you to buy my coffee for me, I'm perfectly capable of getting my own –" she told him, hands on her hips and a defiant look on her face.

"Listen, Miss…?"

"Swan," she answered sullenly.

"Miss Swan, I was not attempting to hit on you, I was merely offering an apologetic gesture for taking so long with our order," the man said, grinning ear to ear.

"Oh," Emma said, feeling flustered and surprised. "Well, well…"

"Emma!" the barista called out, and she moved to accept her coffee, grabbing a beverage sleeve as she did.

"I believe 'thank you' is the customary expression of gratitude,  _Emma_ ," he smiled as she turned away from the counter, and she couldn't help but think that she  _really_  liked the way her named rolled off his tongue.

"Thanks," she grumbled, and she checked her watch, noting with some alarm that she was now very late. "I have to go, late for a meeting."

With that she turned and stalked out of the coffee shop, feeling embarrassed and irritated, but not before she heard his chuckle from behind her.

* * *

[1] Hugh Grant,  _Love Actually_  (2003)


	2. Regina

Regina Loxley sat at her desk, the picture of patience as she waited rather irritably for the agent she was scheduled to have a meeting with. Really, meetings on a Saturday, whose idea was that? And where was this woman? Fifteen minutes late, it’s utterly ridiculous. The door burst open and a tall, thin woman with a mess of blonde curls and sharp green eyes entered looking slightly harassed.

“Miss Swan, I presume?” Regina asked, eyeing the blonde with distaste.

“Let’s just get this started, alright?” Emma huffed, plopping down in the chair across from Regina. “Neither of us wants to be here, so…”

“Of course. If you had been _on time_ , perhaps we might have been halfway done by now,” Regina answered, smiling smugly when Emma glared up at her from beneath her lashes. “The Pan scam… Walk me through the arrest if you will.”

“You have the case file, don’t you?” Emma snapped irritably.

“Yes, _Miss Swan_ , but some of the details of the arrest seem a little suspect, so I would like you to go through it and clarify some aspects for me,” Regina hissed through gritted teeth, her temper rising dangerously.

Emma sighed heavily before answering. “We got an anonymous tip about our suspects’ location, a little kid who had called in and said that there was a scary man living in his building, and we thought it might be our guy.”

“Based on the description of ‘scary’?” Regina questioned, her eyebrows arching in disbelief.

“We have to start somewhere,” Emma grimaced. “We had some leads that indicated they might be holing up in that part of London, but otherwise we had nothing to go on, so when we got the call, we figured it was as good a jump on things as any.”

“And who was leading the operation at this point?” Regina interrupted, making notes on a legal pad as Emma talked.

“I was,” she answered sullenly. “Look, we got the call and headed over to the apartment building, and we busted through the apartment door and the suspects were there, so we arrested them.”

“And did you have a warrant to, er, bust into the apartment?” Regina inquired.

“No, but we were investigating a dangerous situation,” Emma argued, clenching her fists.

“You’re claiming that the child was in danger?” Regina clarified. “Based on the phone call?”

“Once we were inside,” Emma continued, ignoring her, “we found pictures of the kidnapped kids being held somewhere, so we went ahead and arrested the suspects.”

“Okay, so after entering the premises unlawfully, you went ahead and arrested both suspects on circumstantial evidence?” Regina pressed, feeling thoroughly exasperated by this case, and the woman in charge of it. “Exactly how did you become an agent, Miss Swan? You seem completely incompetent.”

As Emma opened her mouth to retaliate, the phone on Regina’s desk began to light up, and she glanced at the number on the display, letting out a long sigh.

“Please excuse me one moment,” Regina said to Emma, picking up the phone and lowering her voice to answer. “Hello?”

“ _Hey, ‘Gina,_ ” a distinctly masculine voice said on the other end. “ _Look, I need you to come pick up Roland._ ”

“I can’t right now, David, I’m in a meeting,” Regina hissed. “You promised you would take care of him for me.”

“ _I know I did, but stuff came up,_ ” David answered, and Regina scowled at the black and white wallpaper.

“What stuff?” she challenged, eyes squinting dangerously. If he were there, her expression would have made him very nervous indeed.

“ _Prime Minister stuff_ ,” he said defiantly. “ _Can you just come get your son? Or tell Robin to pick him up?_ ”

“Robin’s working today, and I told you I’m in a meeting right now.”

“ _Well, if you’re not here to get him in twenty minutes, he’s going to be left on his own_ ,” David told her matter-of-factly.

Regina let out a low curse as she slammed the phone down on the base, pushing her chair back from the desk.

“Excuse me, Miss Swan, we will have to resume this meeting another time,” she said curtly. “I would highly suggest, in the meantime, that you consider the deep _shit_ that you and your team are currently in, and how you might remedy the situation.”

“Isn’t that _your_ job,” Emma retorted, crossing her arms as Regina stuffed her laptop into a polished leather briefcase.

“Miss Swan, I’ll see you on Monday to deal with this mess. Good bye,” she dismissed Emma bluntly, and the blonde left with a final snarky smile.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Regina made her way out of the office, locking the door behind her, and proceeded to hail a cab.

“Downing Street,” she informed the driver, and she rolled her eyes when he gave her a skeptical look before shrugging and driving off anyway.

When he stopped outside the gate to Downing Street, she handed over a few bills and climbed out and presented her id to one of the guards, who waved her through. The door to number ten opened and a handsome man stood in front of her, holding a small boy by the hand.

“’Gina,” David said warmly, leaning forward to kiss Regina on the cheek. “Thanks for coming to get him.”

“You didn’t leave me much choice,” she said quietly in his ear. “Really, David, he’s only four, you can’t leave him alone.”

“There’s about a hundred people who work here, ‘Gina, it’s not like he would really have been on his own,” David countered, and Regina took her son by his little hand.

“I cannot believe you,” she scoffed in reply. “Roland, say goodbye to Uncle David.”

The little boy wiggled his fingers at his uncle, who gave him a charming grin in return, and Regina swept him up into her arms.

“See you later, little brother,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away with her son chattering happily on her hip.


	3. Mary Margaret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I'm getting the feeling that this story is going to be one with A LOT of shorter chapters, so I'll try to post them quickly and not take too long in between chapters. Anyway, I hope you all had a happy holiday season (and don't mind reading some more holiday themed stuff even now that the holidays are over)! Enjoy!

Mary Margaret heard the door shut as the voices ceased, and she quickly busied herself with setting the tea down on his desk. She hadn’t intended to snoop on him earlier, but he was just so _cute_ and when she had seen him with the little boy she couldn’t help but wonder… It was fairly common knowledge that the new Prime Minister was unmarried, but was it possible that he had a child that he’d hidden from the world. He’d caught her though, come bursting through the door with the little boy in tow and nearly collided with her as she stood right outside with her tea tray. Her very first day and he’d caught her snooping on him.

“My nephew,” came a voice from behind her, and Mary Margaret whirled around to find herself face to face with the Prime Minister.

“Sorry,” she said hastily, and he seemed to misunderstand her.

“My nephew. As in my sister’s son.” He grinned widely and a blush spread across her fair skin.

“No, sir, I meant I’m sorry for listening at the door,” she clarified, her cheeks turning even rosier.

“Not to worry, not to worry,” he reassured her, his smile doing much more than his words. “What was your name again?”

“Mary Margaret, sir,” she answered with a small curtsey that made her feel immensely stupid.

“Please, David will do,” he said, and she smiled shyly. “All the formalities get old very quickly. Besides, I’m sure you’ll eventually catch me walking about in my underwear,” he winked at her, and Mary Margaret blushed furiously, “and it’ll be much less awkward then I suspect if we dispense with the formalities.”

“Well, that,” she stammered in reply, trying very hard not to picture the Prime Minister in his underwear, “that seems unlikely, since I won’t be here too long.”

“You won’t?” he asked, and she told herself she had to be imagining the disappointment she heart in his voice.

“I hope not,” Mary Margaret laughed lightly. “It’s really only a temporary thing, I’m actually a teacher, but my school’s been closed for a bit owing to a rather damaging explosion, and all the students have been temporarily reassigned.”

“You teach at St. Mark’s?” He sounded surprised at the news, and Mary Margaret nodded in affirmation. “That’s where my nephew goes – well, he’s been moved to St. Ignatius temporarily.”

“How old is he?” she asked, wondering if she had heard of the boy. He hadn’t looked familiar from the quick look she’d gotten as he walked past, but she might know him by name.

“He’s only just turned five, so he’s year one, Roland Loxley.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of him!” Mary Margaret grinned from ear to ear. She had yet to meet the little boy in person, but there were many stories told about him – a little rambunctious and slightly energetic, but a very sweet child by all accounts, and the teachers were very fond of him. “He’s a good kid, Gemma really loves him, says he’s absolutely adorable.”

“That’s good to hear, I’m sure Regina will be pleased,” David said with a grin. “Although I’m a little surprised, they’ve been having some problems with his attention. It’s pretty much impossible to get him to focus on anything. Takes after me in that respect.”

“You seemed pretty focused on becoming Prime Minister,” she observed, and he chuckled lightly.

“True enough,” he replied, smiling broadly, and Mary Margaret couldn’t help but answer him with a smile of her own.

 _God help me,_ she thought to herself, _first day on the job and I’m in love with him already._ She wasn’t really one to fall for someone easily – in fact she was much tougher and more independent than her innocent schoolteacher exterior suggested. In the few hours since she’d arrived this morning, she’d spend a total of about ten minutes with this man, and yet she felt something with him that was unlike anything she’d experienced before. Just thinking it made her feel like such a hopeless romantic, a fool in love, but it was true nonetheless.

 _At least it’ll give me something to talk about at dinner tonight_. She and her cousin had next to nothing in common, and they’d met only a handful of times as children, since Emma’s parents had moved to the States with her as a child. They didn’t even look alike – polar opposites, in fact – aside from having the same chin. But since Emma had moved back to London, Mary Margaret’s mother had been pressuring her to meet with her cousin, so that at least the poor girl knew she had _someone_. And what better time than the holidays?


End file.
